


Sorrow isn’t for everyone, right?

by mfdunklaus



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide Attempt, don’t worry y’all, happy ending!!!!!, your heart isn’t gonna be broken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfdunklaus/pseuds/mfdunklaus
Summary: au, where Klaus is about to jump off a bridge and counts down thirty cars. He has to start over four times, because a drunk boy constantly distracts him
Relationships: Klaus Baudelaire/Duncan Quagmire
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	Sorrow isn’t for everyone, right?

**Author's Note:**

> So because i was absent for such a long time, with the ten years of one direction thing and stuff, i had been busy with work and also i’m moving and it’s all just mixed up and i’m really tired all the time. So instead of a new chapter on retrieve and retire i give you this crap. 
> 
> Also i’m a sucker for angst, in case you didn’t notice

"One, two, three..." whispers Klaus, standing at the railing and holding tight to the cold metal.

The night is particularly dark, and the bridge on which he stands is deserted, there is not a single light (although Klaus remembers exactly that there was one three days ago). On the highway below, a few cars flash by, lights flashing, and sometimes loud music breaks the silence.

“Four...” the speed was at least two hundred kilometers an hour, "Five," heavy metal enthusiasts, "Six," a truck of some fizzy drinks company.

He has been standing there for about half an hour, and only twelve cars have passed below, and Klaus sinks wearily to the ground and hangs his legs over the railing.

"Thirteen," he counts as another car passes below, though at a fairly slow speed. The Baudelaire doesn't need to look closely to know that they are young and carefree. The music is heard even louder from the cabriolet, in which two guys and three girls seem to be cheerfully singing along to the music. One desperately tries not to turn the steering wheel, despite the other, very violent, leaning on it. A girl with long dark hair is perched slightly in the back, and two others,  
a blonde and a brunette with an overly rough voice-are towering over her from the back of the car.  
They are singing what seems to be an Irish folk song, and Klaus can't help but smile bitterly.

Sorrow isn’t for everyone, right?

Well happiness isn’t either. 

He had forgotten when he had been like this. It seemed that these thoughts, dark and scary, had always enveloped him, and now they reached the farthest corners of his soul. And Klaus can't.

The car is approaching the bridge, and is about to pass directly under it. The Baudelaire notes that it’s bright red, and probably these guys like to stand out from the crowd and catch everyone's attention and admiration.

The laughter stops at the same moment, and Klaus looks down: they are looking at him. Right there, from the bottom of the car. Klaus doesn't breathe for a couple of seconds, as if he might be heard, hoping that they will pass. Or at least think of the cliche “it’s not my business.”

He clings tighter to the railing as the girl jumps out of the car and takes a couple of awkward steps, trying not to fall. The guys in the car turn around and shout something, waving, but she waves back, and they drive away. Yes, like real friends.

Klaus can't calm his heart, and only now, when he looks back, does he notice that he has missed several cars. Damn.

"Hey, what are you doing there?" someone shouts from below, and it's not a girl.

Klaus doesn't answer. He was hoping the guy will leave, blaming everything on drunk hallucination.

“Can you hear me?" he shouts at Klaus again.

The Baudelaire exhales and nods. It is only after ten seconds of silence that he realizes the worthlessness of the action. Oh, Yes, he is in the dark, and even if his figure is noticed, it is unlikely that this small gesture will be. 

“Did you fall asleep there?" the voice cuts through the silence again.

"No," is all Klaus can say right now.

“Oh, well, it’s cold, and sleeping outside on the bare ground is not a good idea, you can catch a cold," the guy tells him carelessly.

What's wrong with this him? He's talking about a cold when Klaus is actually here to end his life.

“So what are you doing up there?" he asks.

“It's just a bridge. People pass through here every day" Klaus says. His plans are a bit off, and he's not happy about it.

“I mean, why are you hugging the railing?"

“Who else to hug?" again the bitter smile. No one.

"Well, me, I like cuddles,” The guy actually stretches his arms out in front of him and looks up at Klaus. 

The brown-haired man takes a deep breath a couple of times and decides to just ignore it. Okay, forget about the weird guy downstairs. One car, the second, third, fourth, fifth…

“Are you going to sit there?" he’s talking again, “Aren't you bored there?"

"No, it's alright.”

“What are you doing?"

“I..” it's stupid, stupid, “I'm counting cars."

“Oh, if you just wanted to count the cars, then there's not much to count here,” the guy from below says, “Well, you've already noticed probably,” he chuckles.

"It's.." shut up, shut up, “I count for something.”

“What for?"

“I'm counting down thirty cars... And ... and I'm going to jump."

The guy below is silent for a few seconds, trying analyze whatever Klaus just said. 

“Why... why thirty?” he asks. The Baudelaire, however, was waiting to be asked why he was going to jump. Because he can't answer the other question. 

“Just because,” because he doesn't know why, it's just a number. 

"Oh, I see. How are the calculations?” the guy asks.

And Klaus realizes that he lost count again. Damn it!

“You distracted me! For the second time!” The Baudelaire yells. 

"Sorry," the guy shrugs.

Okay, okay. Let's start... first? Klaus sighs and looks at the screen of his old phone. It's almost one-thirty in the morning. At this time of day, there are even more cars than usual, and Klaus hopes that he will make it before dawn, because he loves dawns, because it is a new beginning and the sunrise, because yes, it will break his confidence.

"Ten..." he says forty minutes later. He gets up from the ground, because it is already too cold, and small stones bite unpleasantly into his thighs and palms. There are still no stars in the sky. 

“Listen...” comes from below again, “I'm sorry, what's your name?”

“K...” why would he do that? “Klaus.”

"Klaus," the guy repeats, “Beautiful name. I'm Duncan. Ahem, Klaus, how long have you been sitting here?”

"Don't distract me!”

“you came here by accident, or maybe you guys say a booked location?"

"You guys?"

“Never mind. You probably don't really want to die, since you've chosen such a quiet road,” Duncan looks around, shivering a little from the cold.

Klaus pauses for a full minute. His head is a mess, and the only way out of it is down there, in the cold, on the inviting asphalt. 

"It doesn't make sense," Klaus gasps quietly. He will die here, and he criticizes him for it.

“What doesn’t make sense? Your actions?”

"No, the fact that you've been standing here for an hour and a half, talking to me, and I can't figure out why. I might have thought you were trying to save me, but now you're telling me that I've chosen the wrong place to commit suicide."

Duncan is silent for a few seconds, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

"Oh, Oh!" he shouts, pointing ahead as another car is passing “Another one!" Almost missed it.”

Klaus turns abruptly to follow the car with his gaze, and then looks back at Duncan and gets even more confused. Seriously, what's going on?

Klaus rubs his face with his hands and sighs. "Thank you for noticing!"

“How many cars?" Duncan asks.

And...

Klaus forgot.

He groans wearily and abruptly pulls off his hat, ruffling his hair.

"Hey, are you okay?" Duncan asks.

“Can you just leave me alone?" Klaus shouts at him. 

“You're not much of a conversationalist, I see," the guy below chuckles.

“I don't want to talk!" Klaus shouts back again.

“Okay, okay,” Duncan raises his hands, showing defeat and nods, “Well…”

Klaus sighs wearily and sits down again. The small stone is again under the palm of his hand, and the Baudelaire squeezes it so that its sharp corners dig into the palm of his hand. Klaus holds it up to the metal bars of the railing, scratches them, and sees the marks, although he needs to add more pressure. 

The numbers 2:38 are on the phone screen as Klaus counts down the fifteenth car. When Klaus counts the twentieth Duncan calls again. Klaus ignores him until twenty-one, when Duncan starts throwing rocks up.

"What?" the Baudelaire says, irritated. 

“What brought you here?" Duncan asks philosophically.

"My legs," says Klaus, wiping his fingers on his trousers. The palms are covered in small scratches, which are filled with dust.

"I'm serious," the guy says.

“Yeah okay.”

“I can't imagine what... what makes people do this?"

"Everything. Life just pushes you away when it doesn't like you.”

"Come on, it doesn't matter who likes you or doesn't like you," Duncan snorts. “You're pretty stubborn, and you could stand up to it."

“How do you know that?"

"Klaus," Duncan laughs hoarsely, “You've been here all night, you've lost count four times. But you’re still sitting on the cold ground doing what you wanted,” the guy shrugs, although Klaus still doesn't see it.

“You're terrible at comfort and support, you know?" the Baudelaire shakes his head.

"Look, another one has passed," Duncan says, nodding toward the car. "What is it?"

"Twenty-two," Klaus says confidently.

Duncan jerks his head up and peers into the darkness.

“What are you doing?" the boy asks, startled.

"I've decided to write down the numbers," Klaus says proudly.

Another car speeds past as Duncan pauses for a moment.

"Twenty-three?" he asks, barely audible.

"Exactly," Klaus answers, and gets up from the ground. He dusts his trousers and removes his curls from his eyes, runs his hand almost caressingly over the railing, and looks down again. Duncan stands there for a couple of seconds, then takes off and literally flies across a parallel road with reverse traffic and disappears into the shadows.

Klaus isn't sure if he's running away because he doesn't want to see someone die, or because he's tired of being here. Or he's going to run here to the bridge.

He looks around in the direction where Duncan has disappeared, and then at his phone. He sees first two missed calls from a friend who lives next door, and probably noticed his absence. Then the phone warns him that the battery is low, but it's not a problem at all, it's just that Klaus is a little nervous right now.

"Twenty-four," he whispers to himself, scratching a number on the railing under the light of the barely alive phone.

Almost like me, Klaus chuckles to himself.

The screen lights up at 3:06, and Duncan has been gone for five minutes. It takes twenty minutes to get from the road below to almost the middle of the bridge, and if you run, you can do it in twelve, the Baudelaire thinks.

Klaus looks ahead and sees two cars following each other. He counts out the twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth, scrawls the numbers on the railing, and carefully and slowly, standing on tiptoe and pulling himself up with his hands, throws his leg over it. And then he jumps a little on the other, puts his foot on the narrow section of the bridge outside the fence, lifting the second one off the ground and throwing it over as well. He's holding on to the railing and looking down, and he doesn't know if he's happy or upset that he can't see it clearly. The stone is still in his hands, and Klaus can barely scratch the number "27", and after five minutes "28", even more illegible, because his hands are shaking, and he is still trying to hold on to the railing and not fall off too soon. The stone slips out of his sweaty, trembling hands and flies down, disappearing into the darkness without a sound. Blood is buzzing in his ears, blocking out everything around him, and angry tears are streaming down his cheeks, because the next one is him, just as quietly and without a sound, falling into the arms of the darkness.

But instead, he feels a real hug around him, so strong and confident that someone pulls him back immediately dragging him over the railing. Klaus’ sneaker catches on the heel and flies off the leg, falling down, and he falls back not on the ground 

For a minute he lies motionless and hardly breathes, but when the buzz in his ears stops, he hears heavy breathing right next to his ear. And Klaus exhales, his tears still large but less prickly, and he screams aloud, trying to draw in a full breath of air, trying to free his heart from his chest, which is pounding as if in agony. But the voice breaks, and in the end it turns from a cry of despair to a quiet cry of relief.

He buries his nose in someone else's chest and tries to breathe. He feels almost weightless pats on his shoulders and back and low whispers, but he wakes up thirty minutes later. He rolls onto his back and looks up at the slowly reviving sky. Soft peach stretches from the horizon and echoes the deep blue, mixed with lilac with a gray tint due to the still thick clouds. Klaus backs himself up with his elbows and straightens his back, sitting on the ground with his legs outstretched. Behind him, someone stands up, but doesn’t say anything. 

Before Klaus can blink, the blue is gone, pulling the lilac hems down with it, the peach is softly golden, and the sun is blinding his eyes with its first rays. The Baudelaire hears a car passing below and looks at the countdown frozen on "28." It almost happened, almost, but now Klaus has absolute silence in his head and emptiness in his chest, only the measured beating of a living heart.

And the Baudelaire thinks that dawns are especially beautiful when viewed through the crystal green, and he would like to always greet them like this. But now he just smiles wearily, sincerely, in response to the same tired smile.

When they go home, to Duncans, because Klaus is completely exhausted and doesn't think straight, Duncan gives him hot tea and offers him a pill to help him with his sore throat, washes Klaus’ dusty hands under warm water, and gives him antibacterial patches with silly pictures on them, clean clothes, and a phone charger.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated! 
> 
> love, M<3


End file.
